


Mine

by Mzuul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom!Harry, Digital Art, Fanart, M/M, Top!Tom, tomarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 00:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mzuul/pseuds/Mzuul
Summary: SPECIAL THANKS to hogwartsfirebolt for the amazing beta!!! I couldn’t do this without her <3





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cybrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cybrid/gifts).



“I- This can’t be real-!” Harry gasped, his voice echoed around the cold, empty room and was cut off abruptly by the sound of a laugh, malicious and mocking. A ruthless hand gripped the back of his hair, and Harry’s spine arched without his permission, a reflex, his body moving to prevent his head from being ripped off.

“Not real, huh?” The man snarled in his ear, Harry felt his breath against his cheek and shivered. It smelled like moss, like fall, like rot. Like death. He knew who it was. “Let me show you how real this is,” Voldemort said, and brought a pale, wiry hand in front of his face. Harry flinched when he snapped his fingers.

The gloomy dungeon disintegrated around him, like a piece of parchment that met water, like changing the page of a book. Where there had been hard concrete underneath Harry’s bare feet, now was an expensive, lush carpet in the darkest of greens. Green tapestries unfolded in front of what had been plain, grey walls, and there, in the middle of the room, a four-poster bed popped into existence, with gauzy bed hangings and a green and silver comforter on top of it. It was entirely too green for Harry to be comfortable. A Slytherin dorm. He knew it couldn’t be, not really, he had been in a dungeon and hadn’t apparated, but a fire burned in the hearth, and the room acquired a welcoming orange tone because of it, the bed looked soft and inviting, and he was too dumbfounded to care.

He’d almost forgotten that he wasn’t alone, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end when a nail dragging down his arm softly reminded him of it. He looked at it, followed its movement with his eyes. As he looked, the hand lost its long, rotten nails, gained color and filled out, it was no longer bony and pale, it looked healthy. It looked human. Intrigued, he let it continue its course, sure it was all a dream.

The man pulled his arms back, one after the other, and Harry heard him mutter a spell under his breath. Just like that, they were immobilised, trapped securely behind his back.

The human-looking hands fell on his shoulders and spun him, and Harry found himself face to face with Tom Riddle, exactly as he had seen him five years before in the Chamber of Secrets. His mouth fell open, and all air escaped his lungs.

“What-” he started saying, but trailed off when a smirk stretched across Tom’s face. He was horribly handsome, and Harry’s stomach turned at the pseudo-smile. It was too wide, too hungry for a face so beautiful.

“Harry Potter,” Tom said, “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

Harry hadn’t even properly processed the statement when Tom snapped his fingers again and a chilling gust of air caught him and brought goosebumps to the surface of his skin. He’d vanished his clothes. Harry opened his mouth to scream, to fight, to cast, but nothing came out. He remained silent, chest heaving, waiting for Tom’s next move.

It turned out to be a shove, and Harry barely had time to brace himself as he fell on his back on soft covers. Tom’s molten brown eyes devoured him, inch by inch, starting on his feet and moving up, pausing between his legs a second too long before coming up to his face. Their gazes met, and there must have been something in Harry’s expression, because Tom’s feral smirk made an appearance again.

“You like this,” Tom said, surprised, triumphant. Hot anger flared up in the pit of Harry’s stomach, and he forced himself not to look away as his cock twitched.

“Never,” he replied through his teeth, defiant.

Tom laughed, a rich, boisterous laugh that filled the room, and then he pounced. He was on Harry in a second, his hands digging into his arms, his shins, his ribs, his thighs, his teeth grazing his collarbone, biting his neck. The onslaught of sensations was almost too much for Harry’s brain, his heart and lungs had trouble keeping up, his consciousness latching onto straws, not understanding what was happening completely. The scent of parchment, ink and a subtle, male cologne filled his nostrils, blood rushed in his ears, and everywhere Tom touched him felt unnaturally hot, his skin scorched, on fire.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought to move away, but Tom pinched the inside of his thigh and his fingers inched between his legs, and before Harry could think, his long fingers were wrapped around him and there was screaming, and it took him a moment to realise it was himself. And then, the only thing in his mind was more.

Tom spun him, pressed him against the mattress as he bit down his back, the back of his thighs, his wrists where they were bound against the small of his back and between his arse cheeks. Harry’s world narrowed down to the feeling of a hard body pressed against his back, and he arched into it, and when Tom breached him with his fingers, Harry pushed back, followed his movement. Sweat coated his skin, he felt it where Tom’s fingers had been too rough, where his teeth had dug too deep, and still, he wanted more.

When Tom’s palms slipped beneath Harry’s arms to lift him up, he didn’t fight it, he let him maneuver him until his back was pressed to Tom’s chest, and then he didn’t wait to be coaxed into it, he promptly sat down and grimaced in pain, in pleasure.

Behind him, Tom groaned. Harry started moving. And then all there was, were the dull sounds of skin against skin, sweaty, human, and Tom’s breath in his ear as they moved together, for the first time working towards the same goal.

Tom’s arms skirted around his waist, and he pressed his cheek against Harry’s, close, as one. “You’re mine, Harry Potter,” he said.

Harry knew it was true.

  


**Author's Note:**

> SPECIAL THANKS to hogwartsfirebolt for the amazing beta!!! I couldn’t do this without her <3


End file.
